Changing Forever
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: There weren't many people who were willing to be seen with Draco Malfoy these days, not least because of the black ink still staining his right forearm.


**A/N: Written for the Houses Competition. WARNING for some explicit language, but it only occurs about twice.**

 **House: Ravenclaw**

 **Category: Short**

 **Prompt: Tattoo**

 **Word count: 1003**

* * *

Draco hated it. The black ink twisted around his forearm, the skull and snake reminding everyone who saw it of his treachery and weakness. He'd tried every spell he could think of in an attempt to get rid of it but nothing worked, and all he had to show for his efforts was a ring of painful blisters surrounding the blackened skin.

He took to covering it up as much as he could, even during the hotter months when he would long to roll his sleeves up just a little. Of course, that didn't stop the barrage of Howlers that came his way daily, nor the sneers and hisses, because Draco Malfoy's face was not one you'd forget in a hurry. He wasn't even sure if it helped him, as, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pretend the mark didn't exist, couldn't ignore his mistakes permanently staining his flesh. All he could do was tell himself the tattoo would eventually become easier to bear, and that maybe, someday, he could learn to live with it.

(He knew he was lying to himself, but that was nothing new. He was an old hand at this twisted game)

* * *

There weren't many people who were willing to be seen with him these days. No self-respecting wizard would allow themselves to be caught dead with a Malfoy, let alone make civilised, polite conversation with one. Draco got it, he really did. He wouldn't want to be spotted with himself either.

He would never have imagined, therefore, that it would be Harry Potter and his friends who would welcome him into their circle. That stupid, forgiving, _Gryffindor_ bastard tried to make sure Draco was included in their loud family get-togethers, even when Draco wanted no part in any of it. He supposed it was touching, in a way, that Potter and the others would go out of their way like this, but he wished they wouldn't do it with such… fervour. It was embarrassing, really. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was pity.

During a particularly raucous moment of one such gathering, (something involving George and Ginny Weasley and several gnomes - Draco had learnt to not ask any questions) he quietly secreted himself away into an unoccupied corner of the kitchen. He stared absently at the table, jumping in surprise when Hermione slid into the seat next to his.

"Sorry," she said, then opened her mouth as if to continue speaking, but she decided against it.

Draco sighed and waved a hand in the air. "Out with it, Granger," he drawled.

"Well..." she started, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Then she huffed and straightened in her seat. "It bothers you, doesn't it?" she asked, staring at the spot where his mark was covered by his shirt sleeve.

"What, this?" Draco commented, hiking up his sleeve and gazing at the mark, feigning disinterest. "You mean, the constant reminder of all my fuck-ups as a wizard? Then yes, it bothers me." He yanked his sleeve back down and went back to staring at the table, praying that she would take the hint and go away.

"Stop being an asshole, Malfoy," Hermione spat, and Draco looked up in surprise, almost wilting beneath her scathing glare. Her gaze softened a little at that, and she gave him a small smile, leaning forward slightly and resting a hand on his marked arm. His skin prickled uncomfortably at the contact and he had to force himself not to pull away.

"Look," she said, voice gentler now. "I'm not going to make you any promises, but there might be a way that I can help you. One of my dad's friends owns a tattoo shop and he could cover it up for you, if you want."

Draco shook his head, the fleeting hope she'd given him all but gone. "It's impervious to any form of magic; I doubt some Muggle trick will work."

"I really think it might, you know," she told him. Then she pursed her lips and stood up, pausing a moment before she walked away. "At least give it a try. I'll get the address for you."

Draco stared after her as she left. He glanced down at him arm and hummed thoughtfully. Perhaps Granger was onto something after all.

* * *

Two weeks later, Draco hesitantly knocked on Hermione's door, twisting his hands anxiously as he waited. Hermione's face morphed into surprise when she yanked it open, but she recovered quickly, beckoning him inside.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" she asked, leading him into the living room and gesturing to a seat. Draco took it nervously and shook his head.

"I'm quite alright, thank you," he said. "I actually… I came to say that I took your advice. About this," he fumbled, indicating his arm. "A- And I just wanted to say thanks. It did help."

Hermione smiled warmly. "Glad I could help a friend," she smiled, biting her lip. "Could I see it?" she asked eventually, eyes lit up with curiosity.

Draco hesitated a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, of course," he murmured. He took a deep breath to steel himself, before rolling his sleeve a little way up his arm. He heard Hermione gasp a little and looked up at her anxiously. "Is it okay?"

"It's beautiful, Draco," she said, gazing in awe at his new tattoo.

Draco glanced back down at it. She was right, he supposed; the artist had done a bloody brilliant job on it. Instead of a black stain marking him for eternity, his forearm was now a splash of bright colours and images that chased away his darkness. The mark hadn't been covered entirely - it was too dark for that apparently - but it was obscured enough that Draco could feel less scared about showing it to the world.

Draco smiled as he studied the pattern. It was a small action, but changing his tattoo had gone a long way in helping him move on from the past. He loved it.

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 **A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed that! Please leave a review if you have a moment. Bye!**


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